Star Trek_ A Choice of Catastrophes - Michael Schuster [47]
Losing no time, he pulled himself to his feet. Forward, Spock was once again seated at the pilot’s controls as if nothing had happened, with Kologwe next to him. The noise of the straining engines had eased off, leaving only the storm to shout over.
“Excellent, Mister Scott,” said Spock, loud enough to be heard clearly. “Can you restore full engine control?”
“Aye. I’ll have to bypass the mains six ways from Sunday.”
“I would prefer that you did not wait until Sunday, Mister Scott. Speed is of the essence, given that shields now seem to be completely inoperative.”
Scotty wanted to know how the interference could have grown so much worse so quickly, but he needed to focus on the matter at hand. He ran some quick mental calculations. Even leaving some leeway for unexpected difficulties, it would take him about ten minutes to finish the job.
“Half an hour, Mister Spock.”
“Hold her steady, Lieutenant.”
Hikaru Sulu winced. Had he really just said that aloud? There was no order a helm officer hated more. It wasn’t as if Lieutenant Rahda needed a reminder to do her job.
“Aye, sir.”
This was his first time in command during a crisis since the Klingon war, and that had been over a year ago. When Captain Kirk and Mister Spock were off ship, Scotty was usually in command. Sulu wanted to show that he was up to the challenge. He wanted a command of his own.
Flying the ship was what he did best. But he knew better than to try to fly the ship and command.
Lieutenant Rahda was doing an excellent job. The Enterprise was moving forward at maximum impulse, and hadn’t encountered a single problem. Without the warp drive active, the ship was in normal space.
Smooth sailing.
Yeoman Lawton crossed from her console to hand him a data slate—fuel consumption reports, damage requisitions. Even in the middle of a crisis, there was still paperwork to be pushed. He skimmed the reports, his eyes drawn to that line at the bottom. “COMMANDING OFFICER, U.S.S. ENTERPRISE.” Someday, that would really be—
A quiet beeping from the front of the bridge drew his attention. The red warning light between the helm and navigation consoles was blinking insistently. “Report,” he said.
Farrell at navigation pressed some buttons and inspected the spatial plot. “I’m not sure, sir.”
Sulu turned his chair to face the science panel. “Rodriguez?”
The science officer looked at the display on his console. “Distortion ahead, sir.” Rodriguez gulped noticeably as he studied the readout. “Real-space distortion ahead, sir.”
“Full stop!” Sulu called out the command before Rodriguez had even finished his sentence, but it was too late.
The deck dipped forward, knocking him into the chair’s armrest. Holding on to it, he could only watch as Rodriguez tumbled and fell.
A moment later, the science console fizzled, gentle sparks flying out in every direction. All its screens went dark. The briefest of moments later, it exploded, fragments of metal and plastic pelting Rodriguez, who was lying on the deck, moaning.
Sulu swiveled forward to discover with horror that both Rahda and Farrell had been thrown face-first into their consoles by the phenomenon’s force. Farrell was slumping backward in his chair, apparently unconscious. Rahda’s face was resting on her controls, a bright stream of blood trickling down them.
Sulu vaulted out of the captain’s chair and pulled Rahda upright in her chair. Her body was limp, her face covered in blood.
As he hurried to cut all power to the forward engines, another loud explosion from the front starboard corner of the bridge overpowered his senses for an instant. Very quickly, smoke filled the air. Lawton had been thrown from her station, and the console was on fire.
“Stay away from all the controls!” Sulu shouted. “Harper, get Farrell!”
As the engineer moved, Sulu finally succeeded in canceling forward thrust, but it didn’t look like it was going to be enough. He put the ship into